Those Who Wait
by Radical.2
Summary: By midnight tonight, I'll be engaged. You see, I've got Plan A and Plan B, so that if the first goes bust, I'll always have the second to rely on. And the second one is much less preferable- to him, anyway. Or maybe he'll just ask me... no, probably not.


**Written for mommaXbear's Google Me Challenge on HPFC.**

_Hermione!  
>I found an engagement ring in Draco's pants pocket before he woke up this morning! I think he's going to propose to me! Or he might have almost proposed last night... and then chickened out. Merlin, for a guy who was in Slytherin, he sure can be a wuss sometimes. Remember how he was afraid to ride that muggle rollercoaster when we went to Thorpe Park? Anyway, I think he might be asking me tonight. He's making dinner for me- or claiming he did, when it was really the house elf. I'm so excited!<br>Love, Ginny._

_Hermione,  
><em>_He didn't propose last night, and he really did lie about cooking dinner! But I couldn't get annoyed at him, because I'm not supposed to know about it. It was bloody irritating, but if I ruin the surprise- or his illusion that it's still a surprise- then it'll be a pretty boring proposal. Maybe he's just waiting for the right time... How are Ron and Harry and them doing? How are you?  
>Ginny.<em>

_Dear Hermione,  
>He still hasn't asked!<br>Ginny._

_Hermione-  
>This is so frustrating! I want to scream! He hasn't asked me yet!<br>-Ginny._

_Hermione,  
>I think it's time that I took matters into my own hands. He's had the thing on him all week and he still hasn't asked me! Well, if he won't, then I'll have to make him. Any good ideas?<br>Love, Ginny._

_Hermione,  
>Brilliant! I'll owl you tomorrow, when I'll be an engaged woman!<br>Love, Ginny._

By midnight tonight, I'll be engaged.

You see, I've got Plan A and Plan B, so that if the first goes bust, I'll always have the second to rely on. And the second one is much less preferable- to him, anyway. To me, it'd be pretty humorous, as it would be to Hermione. I thought of Plan B, I'm proud to say, and I blame Draco for rubbing off some of his Slytherin-ness on me, in the form of cunning and a talent for crime. But I won't say what Plan B is, yet, because you might tell.

Plan A, however, is up for grabs for telling. No, not telling, but showing- literally, kind of. How to explain it?

I'm wearing my shortest shorts that I have, black and worn too many times to remember, but still unbelievably sexy. Under them, black tights that I really hope I don't somehow rip before I carry out the plan. Gryffindor red high heels are my footwear, and though they're a bit hard to walk in at times, they're usually just fie. Another one of those things that could go wrong, but probably won't, unless I'm incredibly lucky. For that- luckiness- I'm wearing my lucky white-ish-gray-ish tank top, the one I was wearing when our family won the trip to Egypt. When I grew out of it, I charmed it to fit me again, because I didn't want to give it up for my mother to cut up and use to patch the boys' pants and things. And yeah, it looks pretty awesome on me, too.

Now that I've finished boring you with all of that, I walk into Hermione's and my sitting room. Well, mine now, because Hermione just married my brother. I still have trouble calling this place mine, it's only been like that for a week or so- Hermione and Ron are still on their honeymoon. It's been pretty nice, though, considering that Draco spends most days- and nights- here. I bet it's better here than at whatever mansion he's living in now. His parents got into real estate last year, and they've been magically renovating houses- well, manors or rich people places- ever since. They move every few months now.

Speaking of the Malfoys, Draco is lounging on the couch, one foot on the wooden table of Hermione's that she said could just stay here. When he sees me, he sits up a little, eyes more alert, and he smiles at me. When he sees what I'm wearing, his eyes widen a little more, smile bordering on a smirk, and he raises an eyebrow at me. Quizzical, wondering, but content with it.

I don't smile or smirk back; instead, I sigh dramatically, sit down on the armrest of the couch. We're not touching.

"Something wrong?" he asks me, curious and aroused. I shake my head, as if it's no big deal what I'm apparently worrying over, and don't look him in the eyes. I stare at my feet, trying to frown a little. "Come on, Ginny, what is it?" Draco says again, almost urgently.

"Well..." I say sadly, "I was just owling Hermione, and she's having so much fun, and she's not here. 's boring without her. I mean, you're great, but nothing much has happened at all this week..." Except for last night, and yesterday, when we went to that really awesome quidditch game. But I don't say that. I continue, "Maybe it's time we should just... I don't know. Even Ron and Hermione have already... and Ron is a total git." I sigh again.

Draco doesn't know what to say at first, and then he brightens. "Actually, there was something I've been meaning to talk about... I've been waiting for a while, but I wanted it to be the perfect moment, and this seems as good a time as any." He's about to ask me! He's about to propose! Finally!

"... I've got us tickets for the quidditch world cup next week!" he finishes excitedly. He looks to me expectantly, and I plaster a fake grin on my face. I'm excited, of course, but that's not what he was supposed to ask! Why was I cursed with such a chicken as a boyfriend? _Why?_

"That's amazing!" I exclaim. "It's going to be great!"

"And our seats are right by Hermione and Ron's!" he adds. "So that-" they can see how un-engaged I am! "-we can all spend some time together! Funny, isn't it, how that's just what you wanted? It's fate!" This is the kind of thing he says that makes me want to scream at the top of my lungs in pure frustration. Instead, I just smile more and act like the happiest woman in the world.

Ten minutes later, I'm lying across the couch, and he's gently massaging my back as we talk about work today. Since the whole seducing/sighing thing- Plan A- was a flop, I'm waiting for the right moment to carry out Plan B. I'm still kind of hoping that he'll suddenly ask me, out of the blue, but I've been wishing for that all week. It's time to take some action and fight for what I want- what he's too chicken to give me.

"Draco?" I say, deciding that it's time.

"Hmm?"

"I've got to go owl Hermione about something, I couldn't earlier."

"Now?"

"Yes," I say forcefully, and he helps me up. I hurry off to my room, checking his jacket that he left lying on my bed. I reach into the pocket and my hand close around the small velvet box. I open it and gasp again- it's an utterly beautiful ring- then slip it into my pocket. And let the games begin... round two.

-at the quidditch world cup-

"Hey, Ginny!" Hermione calls, and I look up excitedly. I see her and Ron and Harry all coming towards us, fighting through the immense crowds of people. One particularly distinct fan is wearing nothing but green body paint and shouting in everyone's ears about how the Irish are going to win. When they reach Draco and I, Hermione throws her arms around me, and I hug her back tightly.

"Did he ask you? What happened?" she whispers in my ear.

I look to Ron and Harry and her and answer, "No, he didn't ask me to marry him yet." The boys both let out sighs of relief, but Hermione is glancing quizzically at Draco, because- "I asked him," I finish with a smile. There, on the ring finger of my fiance's left hand, shines a magnificent diamond ring that glistens in the light.

Hermione laughs.


End file.
